


On Death's Door

by Charizarrdo



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coma, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Post-Marineford, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charizarrdo/pseuds/Charizarrdo
Summary: Death isn't kind, nor is it inevitable. Such is the case for Portgas D. Ace after a horrible hit through his chest.But what happens to those that step onto death's door?
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	On Death's Door

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I said I didn't have a lot of free time for writing... yeah I do too ~~it was yesterday~~ xD  
> Definitely should've put my free time to better use but hey, here we are and there's another Marco/Ace thingie.  
> This was written in like half a day so please excuse any and all errors in the text because I was a little tired and maybe didn't check it well enough xD

His chest feels heavy, breathing shallow as if someone placed several massive weights on his chest. His body isn’t responding, everything feels heavy and he can’t even lift a single finger from the ground. Gravity holds him in its clutch, not willing to let go as it pulls him further against the ground and renders his body useless in its vice grip.

_It hurts_

There is a burn. An agonizing burn that’s spreading further into his body, a scalding sensation shooting through his veins at a rapid speed before erupting from his chest. The burn intensifies; multiplies as it leaves him choking on air. Both his chest and back feel like it’s on fire, an all devastating fire that’s melting his body along with his insides.

_Help me_

His lungs burn and feel like they aren’t even there as his breath comes in trivial pants that leave him more breathless than anything else. The agonizing burn, that damned melting fire that’s ripping him apart. It’s too much, too painful. He just wants to die, close his unopened eyes and stop breathing, to make his heart stop beating and for his blood to run cold.

_It burns_

He can’t even remember what happened, what made his body feel like it’s thrown into a volcano and the volcanic storm of magma drags him down to his demise. The volcanic rage that leaves nothing behind but pain.

_Make it stop_

Sweat gathers on his face, sliding down and wetting his clothes as he is unable to do anything more than wheeze and moan in pain. The burning doesn’t let up, taking with its never ending fire more and more of his precious organs, taking everything he needs in order to live.

He wants to thrash around; get up and run, jump into the sea. _Anything_ that would make this pain **stop**! But it doesn’t happen, he is still laying down, his body not corresponding and the burn takes more tedious turns with every passing minute.

  


_I’m going to die_

His lungs don’t seem to work, gasping futile for air that never reach the place where he needs it. His lungs are on fire, scalding the air as it burns his windpipe along with his mouth. He’s on fire, inside and out. Nothing he can do about it but to accept his fate as his consciousness starts to slip.

A darkening abyss reaching out from beneath him and pulling him in, it’s cold and bony hands tugging him back. Back to where?

_Death_

  


_NO! No! Nononononononononononono_

His chanting growing louder with the second, he doesn’t want to die, not yet. There’s things he never did and people he needs to watch over. He can’t die, he needs to live! 

_“But wasn’t your life a sin?”_

“Who said that?” His voice echoes through the emptiness of his mind, finding himself in a never ending room of complete darkness. There was a voice there that was not his own, he’s certain of that.

_“Wasn’t your birth something that never should have happened?”_

The ghastly voice continues, the vocalization resounding from every part of his subconsciousness. Surrounding him and trapping him into place.

“Who are you?”

_“If it weren’t for you, your mother would still be alive.”_

His mother, the woman who gave birth to him and the only reason she’s death is because he _killed_ her. His existence alone was reason enough to kill his own mother. He’s a monster, he’s a devil, he’s a…

“Stop it!”

_“You sealed her fate, you killed her.”_

“SHUT UP!”

_“You’re going to kill everyone around you.”_

“Stop talking!”

_“Your friends, your family and your brothers. All death.”_

The voice laughs, a maniacal laugh that echoes all through his mind. Those words, those damn words. 

Images shoot past him; memories. He sees his friends as they sail the seas on the Piece of Spadille, claiming infamy wherever they go. His family that was kind enough to take him in, give him a home he never had on the Moby Dick. And his brothers, those two idiots he calls brothers after exchanging a cup of sake to forge their brotherhood.

Tears. He cries, all the memories are precious and he is the reason they will all die. Just because he exists they will die. If only none of them ever gotten in contact with him, they would live forever.

Maybe if he dies it’s for the best, that way those around him will be able to survive. There’s no need for him out there anyway, he only brings destruction to those around him. With him gone, life will go on like usual, like he was never there. It’s not like he’s important to anyone.

_“Even after your death, they will die.”_

That crazed laughter once again surrounds him in the emptiness of his mind, leaving him to cover his ears in an attempt to block out the sound. 

“STOP!” He roars, but the laughter doesn’t let up. 

New images shoot past him. A war. From the looks alone he’s able to discern it as a big war, two large forces engaged in combat and everyone he loves is there.

The burn returns with vengeance, making him kneel to the ground as the images shoot past him with gruesome scenes. His family beaten and dead, his brother bloody and exhausted, his Pops heavily injured. And the man he loves most in the world, for the first time to even happen, is gravely injured.

The tears evaporate from his face, the fire engulfing him completely. His family, his friends, his lover. They are all dead. All because of him, he caused their deaths.

He wails loudly as the fire continues to consume him from inside out, his hands find his hair and he tugs on the strands. Lying in fetus position brings him a sense of serenity. His mind floating back to the time when he was nothing but a fetus in his mother’s belly, comfortably tucked in the womb and protected from everything happening on the outside. 

A place that was keeping him warm and protected. Something that shouldn’t have happened, his mother should’ve been the one to be safe and protected, not him. He causes nothing but problems for those around him. His mother deserved to live, not him.

_“You’re a monster, the devil’s son. You don’t deserve to live.”_

He wants to kick and scream, tell that ghastly voice that it’s not true. That none of it is true and the imagination in his mind shouldn’t get involved in his troubles. But he can’t.

He’s worth nothing but trouble and pain. A simple low-life that shouldn’t be alive in the first place. Someone undeserving of love. 

The images change once more. Showing a certain blond who he claimed to love and the blond loved him. _Loved_ is the right word to describe what they had. The image shows the blond happily ever after with someone else on his lap, kissing. A pang of hurt and sadness shoots through his heart. He knows he’s undeserving of love but he doesn’t wish to see the one man he thought he loved to be intimate with someone else.

_“Everyone will lead a better life without you.”_

He’s too tired to say anything, his mind drifting off as he struggles with the new images floating around him; haunting him. They show of how happy they are without him, as if he had hold them back all this time and he can’t help but agree.

_“Let go and all your troubles will go away.”_

Silence. He doesn’t know what to say.

_“Monsters need to be eradicated after all.”_

The ghastly voice appears in front of him, no longer covering the entire space of this seemingly never ending empty room. Clad in dark ropes torn in multiple places with a hood to cover its face, a frail and almost ghost-like hand reached out for him. An invite.

How easy it would be to give in and end it all. He had seen the images, known that it would be for the best. But a part of him remains unsure, wanting to know more and selfishly wishing to return back to the land of the living, to all his beloved.

_“I’ll take away your troubles, you don’t need to worry.”_

The voice sounds kind; caring. He believes it, naively thrusting this unknown figure that promised him something he wants. But is it what he wants?

Yes. He wants the people most important to him to live their life how they want, not to die for his sins. All his life he said he wasn’t going to live a life of regrets, so right now he isn’t going to regret his decision.

His hand reaches out, aiming to grasp onto the semi-translucent hand in front of him. A smile can be seen from underneath the darkening edge of the hood, a chilling smile that forebodes something bad. A hint of regret makes itself present in his mind and for the first time in a very long time he wonders if this choice is the right one.

_“Everything will be okay, join me.”_

A light appears.

It illuminates the spot they occupy, basking their bodies in the warming light. The ghastly figure quickly jumps back, hissing at the source of light as it steps back into the shadows. Retreating; merging with the darkness once again.

The light is warm and pleasant, cascading down his body and embracing him in a hug full of fuzzy feelings. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time. He loves it, it’s the best feeling in the world, almost as if someone holds him tight and tells him everything will be alright.

The shadowy figure hisses once more as the light brightens and claims more of the darkness, it mumbles under its breath in words he can’t understand. But he doesn’t care, the light surrounding him calms all of his previous worries. 

No longer he fears death, nor does he embrace it. No longer he worries about his existence and those around him that he brought down. No longer he begs for his mother to be alive instead of him. Everything makes perfect sense. Everything is clear. 

He is loved, he is never alone, people care about him and would do the stupidest of things just to get to him. 

_I am not alone._

_I am loved._

The light takes over the darkness, brightening the entire room in the process. Whoever the ghastly figure was, its gone now, swallowed in the rays of light and reduced to ashes that burn to the ground. Everything grows brighter with the minute, making it hard for him to keep his eyes open. The room is blinding, the light burning his eyes and he closed them.

It’s then that he noticed something different, no longer stuck in a dark part of his mind. His body feels light, the weights holding him down seem to have dispersed and he can move his fingers. Not only his fingers, his whole hand and feet as well. No longer his body is pulled to the ground, now it’s peacefully laying on something that appears to be a soft surface. Even the burning sensation is gone. No longer digging deeper in his body and ripping him apart. 

A cold and fluttery touch is there, caressing his chest and covering the expanse of his torso. While cold, it feels more welcome and warm than anything else he can remember. The soft crackling of fire reaches his ears and he feels at complete ease, letting the sounds and touches lull him back to sleep. 

However the low mumbling in the room makes it a little more difficult to relax. The sound is familiar but he can’t understand what it is as he tries to focus on the spoken words. It appears to be some sort of chanting, the same tones get repeated over and over again as if trying to cast a spell.

“—ome on Ace, please wake up. Don’t leave me here. You’ve come so far, don’t give up. Come on Ace.”

At the call of his name Ace stiffens, more mentally as visibly because he still has very little control over his body. Someone’s out there, someone he knows and that someone is begging him to stay alive.

“You can’t do this to me Ace, not after everything I’ve done. Don’t leave me alone.”

That voice! He knows it, but from where? It’s so familiar yet somehow he can’t quite place it. The person sounds sad, as if in tears or holding back its tears. Ace tries to whack his mind back in action, remembering who’s voice sounded like that. He’s certain that he knows.

A warm hand caresses his cheek, loving and tenderly. “I know you’re in there, please come back to me. Don’t leave me here without a chance to say goodbye, yoi. I love you Ace.”

Marco? Yes is must be Marco.

Weakly Ace tries to open his eyes, he needs to see the man. The odd occurrence in his subconsciousness a blur and he remembers almost nothing of what happened at the time. But the sound of his lover makes him want to see the blond and hug him closely, Ace never wants to hear the man’s voice tremble like that ever again.

The hand on his cheek lets up and moves away. Moments later Ace’s eyes finally open, only to fall closed immediately because of the bright light in the room. Blinking, he tries to look around once more, spotting a wooden ceiling and a wooden wall to his right. Letting his eyes roll to the left he spots the man he heard before. 

Marco, his lover.

The blond is focused on Ace’s chest. Blue light captured on his face and Ace tries to look down to his chest. Marco’s hands are engulfed in his beautiful phoenix flames as he softly caresses his torso, lingering on a specific part on his chest and a sudden burn shoots through him as he remembers just _how_ he gotten that wound.

At his pained groan Marco whips his head around to stare at Ace, his eyes large and slightly wet as he takes in the tired silver orbs that stare into his blue ones. “Ace.” He croaks out as the blue fire wavers a little.

“Yo.” Ace dryly responds, his throat feeling dry and painful and the simple word caused a coughing fit.

Calming blue fire disappears and Marco holds a straw to his lips while urging Ace to take a sip. The cold water feels foreign in his mouth as it gushes down to his stomach, leaving him satiated and thirsty at the same time. 

“You didn’t drink for weeks, obviously your throat isn’t going to comply with you, yoi.” Marco scolds him. Not that Ace minded, it’s more of a happy sort of scolding. “First thing you say when waking up, _‘yo’_ … like you were out for a few hours. Don’t you give me a scare like that ever again you brat.” 

Marco continues to mumble on, complaining the entire time while keeping Ace from drowning the glass in a single gulp. The blond sounds more worried and happy than actually angry at him, so Ace listens to his voice with a smile on his face. Marco was worried about him, Marco loves him. He’s not alone.

“Thank you.” Ace croaks out from his less parched throat. 

Marco smiles lovingly at him as he placed the now empty glass back on the nearby table. As Ace tries to move his head around to look around the room, he noticed something on his face, or more like, in his nose. His eyes focus on the white looking tube that runs over his cheek and probably goes in his nose, it feels a little weird and uncomfortable.

“So you could breathe more easily, yoi.” Marco explains Ace’s unasked question.

Ace nods, his head turning to the left as he tries to look into the room. He doesn’t recognize it, it’s none of the rooms that are on the Moby Dick. This room is a lot larger than their average room and the infirmary looks a lot more different. 

“We’re not the on the Moby, we’re in Sphinx. Moby got sunk during the war.” Ace looks back at Marco, seems like the man understands his questions even without him vocalizing them.

War. The heaviness of that word makes the burn on his chest ache once more, again, something that Marco takes note off as his blue fire soothes his pain. 

Ace remembers, not everything but most of that war. When he was chained to the execution platform and watched as his family fought and died for his sake, how his younger brother fell from the sky and joined the fray. He also remembers when that idiot of a little brother managed to set him free and they run to their freedom.

That’s where things get a little blurry. He knows that they were running away and that he saved his little brother from a few attacks thrown in his way. Then all he remembers is an obnoxious marine, spewing nonsense. A flaming fist. Burning pain. And a hole through his chest…

“I-I… I died?” Ace asks horrified. He remembers the pain he felt, how the burn was eating away his organs and how he could _feel_ his life ending.

Marco doesn’t respond, he just turns away. He doesn’t need to answer, that in itself is enough to tell Ace he in fact did die. It doesn’t make any sense on why he is here right now, if he died he can’t he here. Right? 

“How… what?” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking in this moment, everything feels confusing.

“You remember what happened?” Marco calmly asks, the undertone in his voice sounds hurt and sad. As Ace nods in response, Marco continues. “You… you did die. After Akainu hit you with his magma fist, your body stopped working, yoi.” Tears are forming in the blonde’s eyes and his voice wavers.

“God Ace, you’re back. You—” Marco cut himself off as he hugs Ace, the tears now rolling freely over his face as he continues his chant on how relieved he is that the younger returned. Ace does his best to respond, moving his weak arms up and grasping the man’s blouse as he too begins to cry.

Together they stay like this, in each other’s arms, crying while telling how happy they are to have each other again. At a certain point Marco snuggled himself against Ace so the younger could lie a bit more comfortable. Kisses are shared, first soft and caring, then fast and needy. Another bit of reality that proves this is real, they are real and have each other in their arms. 

It’s until both of them calmed that down that Marco begins explaining once again, but not before placing a lingering kiss on Ace’s lips. One out of pure love and longing, something the blond had been wanting to do ever since the end of the war.

“We really thought we had lost you. By the time I reached you there was no pulse, nothing, but I couldn’t let you be, yoi. I tried to use my powers to somehow get you back but whatever I tried, nothing seemed to catch on and I thought it was all over.” Marco’s voice still wavers ever so slightly when retelling the story.

“Pops had ordered us to retreat, leaving him behind. It’s around that time that Teach, or Blackbeard, made it’s appearance.” Ace’s eyes go wide, Pops sacrificed himself and that bastard of a Teach showed it’s ugly face? 

“I know what you’re thinking, believe me, it’s nowhere how I wanted it to go. But we can’t go against our captain’s orders. I stayed and watched the fight between Pops and Teach, saw how the traitor cheated and killed Pops.” His eyes went from soft to harsh at the memory just as how the sentence ends in a low growl.

Ace stays quiet during the explanation, his mind trying to understand everything that Marco’s explaining to him right now but he feels sick. Sick because that grubby man managed to kill Pops, the one man that shouldn’t die at the hands of someone that low. He doesn’t even know what he needs to think of this all, his mind is completely and utterly confused.

“After Pops’ death, Shanks came and stopped the fight. It’s the reason why most of us got out unshattered and we could take you with us, yoi.” Marco looks lightly annoyed, probably something to do with how those two don’t think alike. 

“It was then that we noticed your heartrate picked up again. I’m still not entirely sure what happened or how we did it, but… you were alive again. We’d hurried you to the nearest safe place where we could treat you, yoi. Your body was in constant pain and you were basically in a coma, but that didn’t stop us to get you better.” The hand around Ace’s waist tightens a little.

“I was so scared that you wouldn’t make it a second time. That whatever god out there gave us a chance only for me to ruin it again, that I had to watch you die once more.” Marco buries his face in the crook of Ace’s neck, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Your body seemed to recover fast enough, there’s only a scar left that I’m unable to heal though.” Those words hung heavily in the air and Ace wonders what is so wrong about an extra scar marring his body.

“How long?” His voice soft as the question leaves him, but his face hold annoyance and other emotions.

“It’s almost three months since the war. Your body took a lot of damage and it needed its time to recover Ace.” Marco explains, carefully selecting his words as to not agitate the younger.

Ace remains calm, he isn’t able to do anything more than lie there and listen to Marco. His entire body feels weak and then there’s that dull ache in his chest. It’s not like he wants to admit to it but he’s in no state to do anything more than wait until he’s fully healed. 

“After most of the wounds had faded, all I could do was watch and hope that you would win whatever battle you were fighting to keep alive, yoi. It’s not like I could do anything but make sure your body would heal.”

He remembers now, everything that had occurred within his subconsciousness. How he had been close to death’s door once again. How he wanted to die as he thought nobody would care for him, that everyone would be better off without him. He had been so wrong, so completely and utterly wrong. Marco loves him and obviously needs him, not only that but his family wouldn’t come to free him if they didn’t want him around. 

“I’m sorry.” Tears gather in his eyes once more as Ace tries to pull the blond closer. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright, you don’t need to apologize Ace. I get it, you’re safe now.” Marco responds to his chanting apology with his own words of comfort. Hugging Ace as close as physically possible and running a hand through his dark locks.

They remained like this for the rest of the day before Ace fell asleep, Marco joining him shortly after. It was comforting and safe, pleasant and warm. Ace never felt as good as he did when he woke up, his bleary eyes scanning to room before landing on the frame of the one person that could make him smile no matter what. 

Marco did a few checkups on his body to make sure everything was fine. Then like he did every day, he used his phoenix fire to heal the wounds to his best extent, explaining to Ace along the way what he had done over the months to make sure his wounds would heal. It brings a smile to his face, happy to know the blond was so diligent in saving him. 

There are still multiple questions Ace wants to ask Marco, but for now it might be for the best that he focuses on his recovery. He’s going to need it after all because he still feels tired and even breakfast didn’t go as smooth as he had hoped, seems like his stomach wasn’t too happy about the food entering his body.

After breakfast Marco announced that he was going out for a bit, he had some business to attend to and couldn’t ignore it, no matter how much he wanted to—seem that even though they aren’t on the Moby, that man is as busy as always. 

Before leaving Ace alone with enough to drink and a bit of food to help himself, he leans down for a chaste kiss. One that Ace eagerly responds to, after all, Marco always makes him feel special and loved. Almost as if the man made it his personal mission to make Ace happy and content, something that Ace doesn’t mind in the slightest if it means more attention from the blond.

“When you get better, I have someone you should meet, yoi.” That peaks his curiosity as his eyebrow raised, urging the man to continue. “When you’re better, as in recovered enough to walk.” Marco laughs at him.

He dives down for another quick kiss before turning towards the door. “I really need to go now before they come find me. Just make sure you heal fast enough and I’ll introduce you to him, I’m sure you’re going to enjoy the news.” 

Ace is more than curious to find out who he’s going to meet, but right now he needs to focus on recovery. “Good luck today. I love you.” He calls after the blond who just exited the room.

The familiar mop of blond hair peeks through the door opening once more as he smiles down at Ace. “Thank you, love you too Ace.”

Several hurried knocks can be heard on the door that makes Marco groan. “Seems like I wasn’t fast enough after all, yoi. I gotta go now Ace, take some rest.” 

By the time the door locked into place, Ace was well on his way to dreamland. The soft rumbling of voices never reached him as sleep overtakes him, drowning him in the pleasant memories of his childhood and on board of the Moby Dick.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this one doujinshi about Marco and Ace after marineford and Ace was alive and Marco was healing him, I have no clue what the story was because I can't read kanji. Anyway, I had seen it before and didn't do anything about it but now I saw it again and it wouldn't leave my head. So I was like: "Well, I guess we're doing this then" and ruined the free time I was going to use for writing my character's backstory xD
> 
> Once again, it turned out a bit more dark than I was going for but since I was in a flow I figured to just continue with it.  
> Hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think! :3


End file.
